


Darken your clothes

by marlowe78



Series: Teenagers-verse [2]
Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-19
Updated: 2013-10-19
Packaged: 2017-12-29 21:16:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1010194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marlowe78/pseuds/marlowe78
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's been six weeks since someone brought two guns to their school and raised Hell in Highschool. The investigations of the incident are nearly over, but there are still some secrets untouched. Jensen and Jared know more about what led to That Day than anybody else. But will they be able to share their knowledge not only with each other, but with the whole city?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Title is taken from "Teenagers", by _My Chemical Romance_

Jared lay on the bed while Jensen’d taken the ground, leaning back against the frame to keep as close to his friend as possible without doing girly stuff like hugging, or something.

It might be silly, but truth was ever since September, Jens felt safer whenever Jay was close. Maybe it was the same with Jared, but they didn’t talk about that. Not really. Izzy slinked in and dropped with a loud _huff_ , dumping his big, fuzzy head on Jensen’s thigh and snorted. 

Nothing can express extreme comfort like a dog. A purring cat might be good for your health and all, but she’d never make you smile, like the _hrumph_ a dog made when it finally lay down, right after it tried to dig a hole in the carpet. 

Jensen was glad he had Izzy. 

Funny, how life turned out sometimes. There you are, vaguely missing your friend but not enough to do anything about it, next you’re happy as they come, fusing your best friend with your new life – and then your world explodes in death and blood.

Who’d have ever thought something like that would happen in Hilldale? Then again – who’d have thought something like that would happen in Columbine, so…

From above, he heard Jared’s stomach growl. It’d been doing this every time they were together, and he assumed it happened anywhere else as well. Jay’d stopped eating, and wasn’t that fucked up beyond comprehension? Jay was an eater. He loved to eat, but since September... 

It’s not that Jensen felt so much like eating either, but at least he still nibbled on pie and chocolate – Jared stopped even that. And Jay was a giant. 

“Jensen, Jared?” his mom called through the door. Since that day, she was home more often, trying to stop worrying but clearly not succeeding. She hovered, and that made Jens itch and feel tight in his skin – but he couldn’t stop it or wanted to. She cared, and it felt good to know that. Even Mack was nicer than she used to be – tried to be less noisy. And he appreciated it, he really, really did. Loud, unexpected noises – car-doors, doors in general, screaming or whatever – made him flinch, and he was glad that his mom and Mack picked that up without him saying it out loud. But still, this… this coating in cotton, this feeling of being apart, adrift from the rest of the world made him want to scream. 

He’d been so glad that after two weeks intensive coddling and cuddling and shrink-visiting, he’d been allowed to go back to aikido. He’d go nuts if he wasn’t allowed to throw someone on a mat once a week.

Hey, maybe that’d be good for Jay too? God knew his friend was messed up, and sometimes violence was a good thing. Controlled violence, not the shit that Mark… yeah. Not going there.

“What?” he answered.

“You wanna come down, eat something?” before he could respond, she went on “I made some apple-pie.”

He wanted. So much. He loved his mom’s pie; it was full of delicious apples, a crispy crust and no cinnamon. He hated cinnamon, even if he liked the smell. But he couldn’t even think about sitting there and look at Jay pick listlessly at his plate, pretending to eat but not really doing it.

“Jay?”

“Hmm… Not hungry” 

Jensen sighed. “Later, okay, mom?” He heard her softly thump her head against the door. She did that sometimes and he didn’t like it. Was worried she might get a concussion some day. But he couldn’t really stop her and the urge to do it himself once in a while was hard to conquer. He needed to conquer it, though, because if he started to bang his head… well, it would certainly not be called softly.

“Jared, come on. Please. Eat something?”

“Told ya, not hungry.” His friend turned his head, stared at the wall now instead of the ceiling.

“Bull.”

“Whatever.”

Enough of that, Jensen suddenly decided. Enough. “No!” he stood, glared at Jared’s body on the bed. He’d gotten thinner during those last five weeks. Or maybe it was just the pallor and sickish tone of his face, the dark circles underneath his eyes. He looked more like a reaper than Jensen’d ever been able to mimic. “No, Jay. Stop guilt-tripping, man! I know… I know it’s hard and stuff tastes like sand. I know that. But… Please, man. Come on.”

Jared flicked his gaze to him, sat up, crosslegged on the mattress now, his back against the tapestry, right under the _Master of Puppets_ -poster. Jensen’s mom had shoved the bed to the edge of his room so there were walls on the headboard and on one side now. He couldn’t sleep in the middle of his room anymore – too much might sneak up behind him. 

As if he didn’t have enough shit on his plate with murderous classmates.

“Jens. I just can’t. I try and it comes up again. I swear, I tried. I… it just won’t stay down.”

Another annoying and deeply worrying thing about Jay – new-Jay – was the lack of emotion in his words. He strung the sentences together, but the joy and bubbling fun that had made Jared Jared… seemed gone. Where Jensen drowned in anger, Jay sank into nothingness.

“Right. Ok. So find something that will stay down. I swear, Jay, I won’t… I can’t!”

“What?” Jared looked into his eyes – an unsettling blankness clouding his blue-green-brownish irises. “What’s it to you? Don’t go all shrink on me, man – I have enough of that at home.”

“You asshole! You … I… Stop that. Stop maudlin, stop being all silent and … and in pain! Stop starving, goddamit! I can’t… I can’t have that! I can’t watch you die. I just can’t! I… I… I’ve…” He had to swallow hard and fast, three times, to get that big lump of pain, anger and fear under control so it wouldn’t leak out of his eyes. “I’ve seen the same fuck you did. I… I s-s-saw it as well. I was there, Jay! I was fucking right next to you! I saw him point a gun at your head and I saw him point one on my own – and I swear, I can’t tell what’s worse! And that’s so me-messed up! So fucked up! It was … I- I still dream of it – of Sa-Sa—Sally. Of Mrs. Jenkins and … all the-these others. Sometimes it’s so bad I need those shitty drugs, just to get some sleep – and I hate them, they make me feel flubby and rubbery the whole next day! I know exactly…”

“You know shit!” Jared roared, and if Jens hadn’t been so angry, he’d been delighted by the outburst, by the emotion that surfaced after five weeks of nothing. “You know absolutely shit about me! Yeah, you’ve been there. And… I –I – I’m… But you don’t know. It’s no-not your fault! You… you’re not the one… You heard they wanna give me some award? For bravery, or moral courage, or somethin’! Those fuckers! It’s my fault in the first place, a-a-and they wa-wa-wanna…”

Ah, fuck. That was his problem? 

“It’s not your fault, you stupid oaf! Man, Mark was so fucked up, it wasn’t your fault! You… “

“I thought it was you!” Jay jumped from the bed, prowling the room and eventually crowding in on his friend. “I thought it was you – I knew it was gonna happen, and instead of going to the police, of… of telling an-anyone, I th-thought I could do it on my own. I wanted to be a hero, and I wanted to be … wanted to… I…“ Tears ran over his face and he wiped them away angrily. Jensen knew that feeling well – too often those fuckers came unbidden and ruined a perfectly reasonable argument. Mack was so scared of making him cry, she stopped fighting with him altogether, and that was just wrong. So he ignored that Jay was crying and pushed him away from him.

“So what? Huh? It wasn’t me! You were wrong. Yes, you shoulda told someone. Hey, you might’ve told me! But you didn’t, and it happened – and it’s still not your fault! Not... not only yours, anyway. Mark had… problems. Many, many problems. And nobody'd listened. His parents weren’t there half his life. His friends… man, Jay! You’re sixteen! I’m sixteen! Kevin didn’t listen either, or Sally or… Jenkins. It’s a mistake, but if ya feel so terrible about it, go and tell someone! Go, tell your uncle, or your mom, or your dad! Don’t sit there and go all starving hero on my ass, because I swear to god, I will not watch you die too! I’ll stuff a tube down your throat and feed you m-myself if I haveta!”

“What, you gonna chew it for me before?” 

“I just might!” 

They stood in the middle of the room, breathing hard and glaring at each other. Certainly Jensen’s mom had heard them, they’d been screaming like AC/DC. Ten seconds went by. Twenty. 

Jay gave a coughing scoff. A tiny grin tugged at his mouth and Jensens’s lips started to answer. Shortly after, they were grinning at each other.

“You’re an ass.”

“Back atcha.” Nearly in coordination, they ran their hands through their hair. 

“So… what about that pie?”

“You wanna?” 

Jay shrugged. “Might as well start with somethin’ tasty, right?” He didn’t wait for his friend, stepped around him and out the door, so he didn’t see the beaming smile on his Jens’ face. Didn’t matter anyway – Jens’ mom’s made his pale in comparison when Jay dug into the still warm pie with gusto.

-*-

It had been a mess of jumbled emotions, of tears that’d come unbidden and unwanted, questions asked over and over. ‘Where was Mark, did he go straight to the cafeteria? Did you actually see him shoot Coach Johansson, could it have been someone else? Did Mark have a partner, did he seem different the days before.’ All this shit and how the hell did they expect Jensen or Jay to answer all that? It was all a big blur, blood and screaming and shots over and over and sometimes Jens had to think hard which event happened when. The only thing he was sure of was that he’d always been with Jay during the time, so the only thing he could tell them was that Jared certainly wasn’t an accomplice. Not that anyone ever thought that, so it didn’t help one bit.

He’d told the detectives about what Mark had said to Mrs. Jenkins. Nearly word-for-word. But strangely enough, nothing more was ever asked about what he thought Mark might have meant. He had his doubts that anyone even bothered to look into it. 

Sure, Jenkins was dead. But fact was, apart from who accidentally got into his way, Mark’d had two targets that day. Coach Johansson and Counselor Jenkins. That nobody seemed to investigate that connection seemed wrong in Jensen’s eyes.

“I-I-I… I was wa-w-w—walking right next to her. I w-w-was askin’ ‘bout h-h-h-her dress, of all things. A-a-a-an---“ a loud sob, heartwrenching, tore out of the girl’s throat, making her shudder. Tears streamed over her pretty face which didn’t look so good all clenched up and soggy and swollen now. Miriam, or Miranda, Jensen’d forgotten her name again. 

“It’s ok, honey. You can stop, it’s ok. We all understand, don’t we?” Counselor Troy, Jay had called her. Handsome, aloof and oh-so-patient. Jensen had to grit his teeth whenever she opened her mouth. This caring, schmoopy, affected attitude grated on his nerves. 

“Does anyone else want to tell us something about that day? Anyone who needs to share the load?” Her big brown eyes swept over the assembled teenagers; ten, including Jay and Jensen. 

They’d been more or less forced to attend this group-counseling, on top of their personal shrinking-sessions they had to go to every week. Apparently, it’d ‘help them to talk with someone their own age’. His mom had asked him if he wanted and he’d’ve loved to refuse. Just… stay at home, draw stuff. Listen to _Metalica_ or _Kings of Leon_ (so what? Jay was right, they did rock!) and go beat some sandbags every Friday, right before aikido.

His trainer, Samjy, had practically ordered him to go decompress before training, since aikido was a strictly defensive martial art and Jens’ mood on Fridays was far too aggressive to get into the right mindset. He’d threatened to kick him out after Jensen’d gone on fighting, nearly getting seriously hurt after his _Nage_ – the defensive partner in the training-groups of two – had him already incapacitated. He’d just not given up, gone on and on and on until Samjy had grabbed him and dragged him into the bathroom, under a cold shower. He’d sent him home and given him the ultimatum: get his head straight or get out. 

So he went there half an hour earlier each week to kick the shit out of some bags, observed by kickboxing-trainer Morris, the polar opposite of smallish, gentle Samjy. Huge, black and imposing. Interestingly enough, Jens had the suspicion that Morris and Samjy were not just partners in business. 

He’d have loved to stay at home instead of sitting here with all the other teens, but Jared hadn’t had the luxury to choose. His parents and even his uncle said he had to go, it would be good for him and they’d even wept a bit when Jay’d said it was just stupid and he didn’t want to. 

Ah, good old parental blackmail.

Jay’d begged him to come with him and well, Jared’s puppy-eyes were kinda epic. And now they sat here the second time. First session had been three weeks after Mark’d snapped and apparently, they planned to make it a regular three-weekly-event. Yak.

Jensen scoffed. How would talking to these kids here help him? Maybe Jared, but him? Nobody here had been even close to a friend for him these last years, Jared notwithstanding. They didn’t know shit, didn’t know what he knew. Whenever someone sobbed how she – it was usually a she who sobbed, apart from Peter who never said anything but just cried silently in his corner – couldn’t comprehend how anyone would do that, his gaze flittered to Jared and Jared met his at once.

They knew. They might be the only ones here in the circle of fucked-up teenagers who had even an inkling of what might have gone through Mark’s head.

Jay‘d talked to Jensen, once or twice, about the chat and about not wanting him in prison or in a mental-hospital. After their screaming-match in his room, Jens had gotten more and more insight to Jared’s guilt and his role in all that. And yeah. He did blame him a bit. Not for wanting to protect him – God, no! – but for not saying anything. If Jay’d asked him, outright, somewhere where even if he’d been a raving madman he couldn’t have drawn a gun or whatever, asked Jensen if he was the guy who talked on the internet about ‘making them listen’, it coulda all been avoided. They would’ve teamed up and done something. But Jay had taken it all on himself. It was a mistake, and it still hurt that their reunion had been instigated because Jared thought Jensen was a killer. 

But he couldn’t blame Jay for everything. He’d played his own role in that drama, one nobody was aware of. And since he hadn’t talked, he was just as guilty as Jared and couldn’t really put all fault on his friend. They’d both messed up royally. 

Yet, so had Mrs. Jenkins, and if she weren’t dead, Jensen would’ve been furious with her. She was the real guilty party, but she’d already paid a price. Not the right one, mind. But a final one.

“I know what you feel, Milinda.” Ah. Not Miriam, then. “I was, like, joking with Ben when this, this… maniac-” the black-haired, overdressed girl – Christina-Ann Corelli, stupid bitch – spat the word “-strolled past, all cool, shooting at someone in his path. Freaky weirdo!” 

Jensen still flinched at those words. It’d been usually him who’d been called that. Still was, often enough. Never Mark. In a way, Jens felt sorry for the dead classmate. Mark hadn’t ever bothered him before nearly blowing his brains out, and he’d been well-liked. Now, when it was apparent that nobody really knew anything about him, when it’d become clear that Mark’d been fucked up and that nobody’d cared about that, now everyone found ways to paint him as the bad guy. The weirdo. The one who’d always ‘had such a darkness in him’ – Jens’ favorite lie. Nobody’d known anything about Mark Parker! They had no right to say this stuff about him.

Instead of wondering what could make someone as apparently well-adjusted, well-liked, handsome and intelligent as Mark go all cablooie, they rather invented crap about him. Because right, if he was just a normal person, that could mean they themselves could blow like that, one day. And that was just not the American Way. Ergo – it wasn’t possible, ergo – Mark had been a weirdo. 

Poor Mark.

“Shut up, you arrogant bitch!” Jared hissed at Christina. “You have no idea who Mark was. He wasn’t a weirdo!”

“Now, Jared. If you want to say something, you can raise your hand like anyone else” Troy reprimanded. Jensen felt the urgent desire to kick her so she’d stop using that patient voice. They weren’t little babies!

“Well, sorry!” Jay scoffed and raised his arm in mockery, still glaring at Christina.

“You’re just defending your friend! We all know he was your friend, _Jared_. You’re probably one of the reasons he flipped!” she hissed back

“Christina!”

“You bitch! You have been slobbering after him all last year and now you pretend like you’ve always known he was capable of that! If that were true, why didn’t you do somethin’, huh! Arrogant, brainless cow!”

“Jared!”

“You – you- what are you even doing here! You shoulda stayed home, with Mommy, cry-baby! Big, bubbly, crying Jared Padafucki!”

“Chris-“

“Right! Maybe he was in on it, got off, or somethin’. Jay and Mark’d been all together all the time…” Milinda butted in.

“Oh, now you need a chaperone, Chrissi? Not enough words in your brain?”

“Shut up! Milli, you too, I…”

“No, you shut up, you…”

“Kids, kids, please. Be quiet. Kids, come on, Christina, Milinda. Jared – no, Erin, don’t…”

Jensen leaned back against the wall, his arms crossed in front of his chest and watched the mayhem that unfolded in the artfully decorated, touchy-feely-Feng-Shui-room they were sitting in – on floor-cushions, no less. He could’ve kissed Jay for interrupting Pissy-Chrissi and her entourage of brainless Barbies. This was the most fun he’d had in weeks! 

Counselor Troy – she might be called Miller, or Meyer, or whatever – couldn’t get another word in, some girls had started to cry and sob into their hands and tissues while others screeched in support of either Christina or Milinda or someone else. It was loud an close to Jensen’s tolerance-level of noise, but dammit, it was a beauty to watch. Jay stood in the center, facing off with the much-smaller Chrissi-Prissy-Pissy and looked magnificent in his ire, only a tick away from throttling her; yelling into her face what he thought of her while she kept insulting him, his parents and, for whatever reasons, Kevin.

It was awesome.

“I w-wanna go home…” A quite voice whispered somewhere left of Jensen. Peter. 

The boy didn’t belong here. He might be fifteen, so around the same age they were, but he was so much gentler and quieter, so much more of a child, really. Whoever thought he’d be right here, with all the puberty-hazy teenagers musta been a whacko. 

The kid looked shit-scared.

“Jay. Stop it.” Jensen interrupted the screaming. “You’re scaring Peter.” 

To anyone watching, it would’ve been shocking to see how fast Jared unwound, stopped the growling, snarling attitude and transformed back to the kind-eyed, overgrown puppy he was. 

But Jensen didn’t need to raise his voice to be heard by his friend. Ever since that day, Jay and him were hotwired into each other, knowing, hearing and more importantly, listening to what the other wanted or needed or said.

“Aww, shucks.” Jared murmured and Jensen grinned. Who said ‘shucks’ these days? ”Sorry, Pete. I just… come on, let’s getcha home, ok?”

The boy with the tear-streaked face nodded and Jensen rose from his cross-legged seat into standing in one smooth motion and placed himself between Jay, who extended a hand to help Peter up, and the rest of the room. Which was still boiling with emotion, since now that Jared had dropped out of the fight, Milinda and Christina-fucking-Ann were screaming at each other, both with loud supporters behind them.

Jensen didn’t know he’d done it, placing himself between Jay and possible danger. He didn’t realize how often he did that, these days, and he didn’t notice that Jared did the same if the circumstances were reversed. He just followed Jared and Pete out the door, only turning around to give a mock-salute and a huge grin to the bug-eyed, overstrained counselor. 

Maybe this group- counseling- shit wasn’t so bad, after all.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a/n: I just want to point out that the idea of giving awards for whatever reason to anyone involved in such a tragic event like a shooting in a Higschool is not only highly unethical in my opinion, but also something that no sane city- or town- or village-council would come up with.  
> Hilldale is a completely fictional place and I apologize if there is a Hilldale out there which might be offended now. Sorry.

He had a nightmare.

Nothing new. Nobody really expected him to be all calm and controlled about September, least of all Jensen himself. This one was a bit different, though. This time, he knew he was dreaming. 

He followed Jared, like he usually did in the night, just like he’d done that day in September. Only, they weren’t walking to the cafeteria. They were walking to the teacher’s lounge. Jay was opening the door, stepped in. 

In reality, they’d only had a glimpse of the room, only seen a hint of the dead coach. But now they stood in the doorway, observing the teachers mingling about as if there wasn’t a freakin’ dead guy in front of them, as if Mr. Pendergast hadn’t just stepped over Johansson’s body with a coffee-mug in his hand and a coupla papers in the other. When Jay moved a hand, though, every eye turned to them.

“Do you see that?” they said. All of them. In complete unison. “Look at what you did!”

Jay flinched next to him. Jensen just stood still.

“All your fault. All your fault. Is it so hard to open your mouth? Is it so hard to tell what you know? This is allyourfaultallyourfaultallyourfault!”

Jay started to cry, silently. Started to say “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, so sorry” over and over, but the teachers kept on talking, kept on with allyourfaultallyourfaulallyourfault, not placated. They weren’t looking at Jared anyway. Their eyes were on Jensen, fixing him, fusing him with the floor, their fingers, all together like some freaky practiced performance suddenly pointed at Jensen.

They stopped talking at once, fingers still outstretched.

Jay swung around. “It’s your fault?” And his eyes fell dark. Angry, like theirs.

From the floor, Johansson and Mrs. Jenkins – who hadn’t been there seconds ago – turned their twisted, bloodied heads, empty eyes staring at them. “Yes, his fault!” they said in unison.

-*-

He woke up. Stared at the ceiling, tried to get his breath back in him. A dead weight was on his feet and he tried to move it, wiggling his legs. It didn’t budge.

“Izzy, go ‘way” he groaned. But the kick he delivered to his dog was not successful. Grouchy, he flicked on the light and looked down.

Dead, empty eyes stared up at him, blood soaking into the bedspread, the mattress and the floor, dripping, dripping, dripdripdripping. 

Not Izzy. Jared.

-*-

With a scream, Jensen sat upright in bed, kicking at the thing on his legs, howling in panic.

“Nononononononononononono” he moaned, “Getitoffgetitoffgetitoffgetitoff…”, only half-aware that the weight shifted, absolutely not aware that the weight talked to him until it yelled loud and clear. 

“MOM!”

Still, it took his mother grabbing him, holding him fast and hard and not letting go, rocking him, murmuring nonsense to get him into the now and here.

He was shaking, his whole frame wracked by tremors. At least he could take in his surroundings now, could see Mack, wide-eyed, tears streaming down her face, clinging to the bookshelf. She looked like she was trying to crawl through the wall.

Oh.

He suddenly realized that he was still demanding to ‘get it off’ and he stopped. “Sorry” he murmured sheepishly. It’d been Mack, jumping on his bed like she liked to do to wake him up. 

“Mack, commere” he whispered, held his hand out to her. 

She sneaked into his and their mother’s embrace, whispering “I forgot”

Yeah. And wasn’t that a shitty thing? Of all the stuff he could be afraid of – was maybe not afraid but wary of, he absolutely had to have such a whimpy-ass phobia. Not guns, nooo! 

Ok, he might not be thrilled to see one, but he’d seen Bill Thompson’s weapon when he’d come to visit Jared and it’d been kinda all right. Man, Mrs. P. could scream like a banshee and curse like a sailor. Jay’s mom was all kindsa cool!

Anyway. What Jens got out of the whole shit at the school was this: he couldn’t take something touching his lower legs. At least, not when he was unaware. Even a sheet of paper flashed him back into the cafeteria, underneath Mark’s body in no time. He couldn’t help it, though he usually only freaked silently, twitched and brushed the offending thing off as fast as possible. 

“Jensen, honey. Are you all right now?” His mom asked. He nodded.

“Because if not…you can stay home today, y’know?”

“I know, mom. I’m fine. Just a dream. Sorry for that.” He looked at Mack, who was snuggling against him. “Sorry, Mackpie. You just surprised me, s’all” Mack nodded and sniffed a bit, but finally pulled herself together. 

“S’ok. I knew you’re a big girl, so it’s my fault.” She smiled a bit impishly, but that was fine. From the corner of his eye, Jens saw his mom’s disapproving look at his sister, but in reality, the more Mack was her bratty, jokey self, the better. He hated, no loathed, to be apart from his family, to need special treatment. He kinda liked that they cooked his favorite food more often now, but he’d gladly eat spinach if it meant his mom would stop looking at him like he’d disappear while she wasn’t watching. 

Made him feel distinctly unsafe, to be honest.

“I’m fine. I’ll be down in a minute.”

His mom and Mack went on their ways and he fell back on his bed, stared at the ceiling for a while. Man, what a sucky dream! And kinda obvious. He knew more about everything than anyone. And he hadn’t told.

True, it was partly because nobody’d really bothered to ask, but it still made him feel like a liar.

-*-

“They what?” Jay stared at Kevin with big, bug-like eyes. 

They were standing in front of Hilldale Middle School, Jared, Kevin, Jensen and Lucas. Middle School was where the city-council had relocated the Highschool-pupils during redecoration. Nice name for ’getting rid of bullet-holes’, Jensen’d privately thought, but Bill and Mrs. P had said that they actually wanted to remodel the whole school so the memories weren’t as traumatizing to everyone who’d been there that day.

Not a bad idea, Jared’d said. Jens had shrugged. He was only glad they didn’t have to go to their old cafeteria anymore, and he wouldn’t admit it, but the three weeks without school hadn’t been too bad. They’d all needed it. 

“Kev, if you’re pulling my leg…”

“I swear! I heard them say it. They want to give you the award soon, I think they said next Friday. Big-ass ceremony in the city hall.” Mrs. Farland was a member of the city-council and Kevin was more up-to-date than even Bill. Mel would be too, but she hadn’t been in school since September. Jensen knew, from Jay, that she had trouble to even look at her brother, her brain was wired so weirdly that she always saw him covered in blood whenever she did. 

Jay also said that Kevin was taking it real hard and on top of that was deeply embarrassed that he’d fainted – even though everyone told him it was probably the only reason he was still alive.

Ah, the human mind was such a funny place…

“They...they can’t do that. Can they? I don’ wanna freakin’ award, dammit! I … they can’t gimme one when I don’t wanna, right? Hell, I told them when they asked!”

“Apparently, nobody listens to you on that account” Lucas provided. 

Jensen winced. After all, people not listening had kinda started the whole thing.

“Bu-bu-bu but… I… FUCK!” 

“Jay, man. Just take the damn thing. After all, you kinda earned it. Mel’d be dead without ya.”

“That’ bull! We all’d be dead without that guy, Roman? Or without the guys who shot Mark. Nobody wants to give them a freaking’ award!”

“That’d be kinda bad taste, dontcha think?” Jensen spoke for the first time. He hadn’t said much before the whole Mark-debacle and he felt even less like talking now, and he also kinda didn’t fit in with Jay’s friends. But … well, Jay and him, they kinda stuck close together nowadays, closer than ever before. His mom’d asked – and his shrink too – if that was all because of the shooting or if it was because they’d become friends again before, and he couldn’t tell. 

He’d joked, though, that pissing into Jared’s sandbox at five had kinda set a claim on him and he just wanted back what was his.

He’d turned bright pink when the innuendo of that’d made its way into his brain. 

“Whatcha mean?” 

“Well, you can’t really give a negotiator an award for failing his negotiation. And giving somebody an award for shooting a teenager’s not exactly pc. Right?”

Jared grumbled. “Yeah, but why me? What did I do that was so fucking special? Hell, what about you, Jensen, huh? You were there too! Without you, _I_ ’d be dead, but nobody wants to give you a prize!”

They looked at him now. All of them. Jens felt his skin crawl.

“Hey, don’t give ‘em ideas now” he tried to joke but it didn’t feel right. Hell, he didn’t want an award, maybe even less than Jay wanted one. He didn’t deserve one. And Jared probably didn’t, either. This was a tragedy, for God’s sake! Not a freakin’ lottery! 

He got that what Jay’d done, standing up against Mark when he threatened to kill Mel, was pretty gutsy. He also understood that they somehow wanted to encourage bravery, standing up for others, and that Mel was absolutely not able to receive anything, messed up as she was. And Jensen also realized that it was less about Jared but more about the city needing something good now. It was a very perverse thing, though, honoring someone – one single someone – who’d done something brave in the face of danger. He got that Jay was meant to stand as a symbol for lots of other students who’d been brave in their own way, that Jared, who had gotten a shitload of media-coverage because ‘round about twenty kids had told how he’d gone _into_ the cafeteria and got them out and because Molly hadn’t been able to stop babbling about Jared’s heroics, was the one they chose.

He just very much doubted that this was the right way to do that.

“I just don’t fuckin’ want a prize for messing up. Why… why can’t they let it rest?”

“Dunno.” Kev looked at his shoes. If he knew what Jay meant by ‘messing up’ he didn’t show it. Neither did Lucas. Jens knew. “No clue. I sure getcha. I wouldn’t want one. Even if there was one for fainting.”

“Aww, shit, Kev. Will you ever believe that it’s not a bad…”

Kevin’s eyes flashed angry. “No, Jay. How could I? They wanna give you a fucking medal for not fainting, so how can I believe that it was ok that I dropped like a wuss? How can it be ok when my dad looks at me like I’m a fucking loser? Huh? Tell me that! When Mel can’t even fuckin’ look at me!” He was pacing, controlled fury and utter despair warring in his posture. Jensen didn’t know him enough to say anything to him.

“I pissed my pants.” Jared stood into Kevin’s path. It made Jens twitchy, for some reason.

“What? Who the fuck cares!” 

That made Jensen want to punch Farland. Which was…odd. Somehow.

“Nobody. And nobody ever cared that Mark felt so bad that he wanted to kill people. Nobody! So if you want to rage against me getting a medal for some stupid shit I did, then I’ll go with ya! Go and tell ’em! It’s not gonna change if you just sit still and let them walk right over ya. Don‘t just eat it up and hope it’ll get better!”

“Jared, you have no idea…”

“I just toldya! I don’t want a prize and they don’t listen to me. You know what they said when I asked them if they wanted to give Jens one as well? One asked me who I’s talkin’ about, the other whispered ‘the freaky one’. Fuck, they’re all assholes! I don’t want anything from them!”

 

Jensen flinched and studied the leaves on the grass. The fact that Jay’d told him about that visit before, that he’d raged about this shit, about the stupid ignorance of those city-representatives right after didn’t really make those statements hurt less. He studied his sneakers – he couldn’t stand wearing boots anymore, for some shit-reason – and hoped nobody’d notice that his eyes stung.

‘Course, Jay noticed such stuff now. 

“Jens, man. Sorry.” 

“S’ok” Jensen murmured. He was pretty sure nobody bought it. 

“It’s not, really.” Surprisingly, Lucas spoke. He’d been mostly silent, a spectator. He hadn’t been close to ‘the action’ that day, but Mark snapping’d hit him pretty hard. He’d thought they’d been good friends. “It’s not ok. I mean, why’s it matter that Jens likes black? Why’s it matter that he wants to look like he does?” 

Everyone – again – studied Jensen, his black jeans and dark t-shirt, the black hair. He’d stopped wearing kohl and stopped spiking his hair, yes, and he couldn’t wear his boots anymore. But that didn’t mean he didn’t like his shirts and jeans and his chains and spikes. In fact, it made him like them even more.

“Whatever” he murmured.

-*-

“All right. I know we all feel still a bit rattled and I know it’s harder on some of you.” Mrs. Perron looked pointedly at Jens at that. “Still, we have some learning to do. Maybe your grades won’t count as much, the staff hasn’t decided about that yet. But whatever will be decided: you all will learn something! It’s as hard for me as it is for you, and if I can get my ass down here and teach you some Spanish, then the least you can do is listen!”

Mrs. Perron was relatively young – Jensen was terrible at judging ages, but he thought she must be about his mom’s age, so around forty – and hot-blooded as they come. She was hard and fair and had a mouth on her that even Hayami’s famous curse-sessions couldn’t hold a candle over. 

Jensen liked her, quite a lot. 

He also missed Jared a lot. They’d changed their schedules around so they had more’n two classes together now, but Jay was in advanced Spanish with Mr. Hayami while Jensen was here. So he sat in the back of the class, like he’d done for most of the last year and tried to pay attention. His eyes hurt these days whenever he tried to wear his contacts, so he’d had to wear his glasses in school. Jay’d stared at him like he’d seen an alien eat his lunch-money when he’d first seen Jensen with them. He’d recovered and claimed they looked ok, but Jensen hated the things even more now. 

He didn’t mind to be the ‘strange one’. Not really. But for about two years he’d been able to be unnoticed and more-or-less anonymous because of his clothes and now… Now a lot of kids and teachers looked at him with wonder, concern and some even with deep mistrust, like he’d pull a gun on them any time. Before, the only one who’d worried’d been Mrs. Jenkins, and considering her epic failure with Mark Jensen wasn’t concerned that she might’ve been on to somethin’. 

But now? Now it was different. He’d always been apart from them, but it had been his choice! He’d liked to be alone and draw and doodle and listen to his music. Still did most days. He’d liked their gazes that passed over him. Disdain, yes, sometimes. But often enough it was a look of awe, of wonder and curiosity. He knew some of ‘em’d been jealous of the courage it took to be who he wanted to be without bending to other people’s wills. He’d never felt alone or terrible at school – the other kids might’ve avoided him, but everyone had know his name and most’d kinda smiled whenever he wore something outrageous. Jensen’d felt proud when he’d been sent to the principal, who would look at his new and supposedly offending trinket or piece of clothing and sigh wearily. That’d been all she did, except for that shirt with the nude chick and the spike through her chest. She’d made him change in one of the leftover-shirts that somehow accumulated after PE and that nobody ever wanted back and Jens’d had to admit that there hadn’t been a better punishment than that. He’d never worn his _Killer Chick_ \- shirt in school again.

All that’d been… well, in a weird sort of way an accomplishment. He’d been someone, and even though some kids’d looked at him in dislike, most had taken his attire as ‘just Jensen’ and ignored him. The younger kids, though, had certainly admired him and Jensen was enough of a boy to have liked that. A lot.

Ok, the shit that some of the condescending grown-ups had pulled, like calling the police whenever he entered a shop, had been less funny. Not while they happened, though later when he’d tell his friends Billy or Orin, they’d had a blast.

Billy was eighteen, worked in the comic-shop his big brother owned. Kind of the family business. He was the poster-child for ‘geek’, wore wire-rimmed glasses, baggy cord-pants and spoke fluent Klingon. Well, he claimed to speak it fluently. Nobody ever bothered to check, though. They’d met at a gamers-convention two years back, when Jens’d gotten into the stuff for real. They’d clicked immediately. And stayed friends when Jensen turned goth. 

Orin was sixteen, like Jensen. He lived at a boarding-school, not far from Hilldale. His parents weren’t rich but lived in Salt Lake City. Orin said they claimed they didn’t want him to grow up in the heat of Utah, but he figured it was probably more because he was black. His whole family was black, of course, but Orin’d been in a class with the kids of some very old-school Mormons and had been … well, not openly attacked, but mobbed so much that he’d refused to go to school. 

His family had sent him to Hilldale, where the school-fees were manageable with their income and where there were relatives close by. Orin’s aunt lived two hours away from Hilldale.

The three of them’d met often, usually done some role-playing or just hanging out and watching movies. Sometimes Jaimie had joined them. Not as often anymore, since she’d found a boyfriend. She was the oldest of them – nineteen – and probably didn’t feel too comfortable in the presence of adolescent geeks. 

Jens had a crush on her that wasn’t even funny, and he was undecided between disappointment that she didn’t come around as often anymore and relief. After all, it wasn’t that much fun to sit with a hard-on through painfully long evenings, trying to be a pissed-off dwarf.

He still dreamed about her, though, and her image was a pretty constant companion in the shower.

Then there were the guys and girls from aikido, with whom he’d talked and shot the shit pretty often. They weren’t friends, as such, but good company. Samji was a well-known trainer throughout the county and the dojo he and Morris owned was doing well. 

So no, Jens had never been really lonely. 

Now, though? Now he knew what it would feel like if he’d been the real loner. It felt shitty. 

Orin and Billy were still there for him. He would sometimes call them, more often send emails. They were like they’d always been and he was grateful that they made the effort of treating him just like they’d done before. That they teased him and made inappropriate jokes and didn’t try to do a campaign that didn’t have any violence in it. They were a bit awkward around him, sometimes, but he couldn’t fault them that.

He’d kinda planned to watch a movie this week but he wasn’t sure if Jay’d come and for some weird-ass reason he couldn’t even think about going alone. He’d ask him later today. He’d probably come.

Jared. 

It wasn’t even that Jensen felt distinctly unstable without Jay. More like he couldn’t bear the thought that something might happen to his friend when he wasn’t looking; Jay might disappear or – yeah – decide he didn’t like spending his time with Jensen after all. 

That was crap, and he knew it. Jay was seeking him out just as often as Jens did, came to him to talk and bare his fears and frustrations. Jensen knew that he was the one Jay confided in the most – it was the same for him anyway. Still, a niggling doubt remained, sometimes.

They just _got_ each other. They knew so much about the other, from before or from after, he couldn’t tell. Jay’d clung to him after the shooting, all the way to the hospital where they’d been checked over. He’d clung to Jared just as hard and whenever one of them’d started to drift away to the events of earlier, the other’d pulled him back out.

Still did, sometimes.

Not the clinging-part, though.

But the other teenagers… they looked at Jensen with deep suspicion now and that hurt. Really fucking hurt. It was stupid, because he didn’t really give a shit about most of them, but … It just made him want to kick their asses. Or punch their snobby faces, which were both tremendously bad ideas when you didn’t want them to think you’re a violent madman. Whenever Jay wasn’t with him, he clenched his fists to stop them from giving in to temptation.

“… Jensen?”

Worse even were the teachers. They knew him, dammit! They knew that he never hurt anyone! Mr. Kayami had a shepherd and a beagle, which liked to play with Izzy. They met often in the park or the woods and Jensen and him’d talked a lot. True, only basic stuff, niceties and all. But Kayami knew him, right? Why didn’t he stand in for him? 

Ok, maybe he did. Jensen wouldn’t know. But either he did and nobody believed him, or he didn’t because sure as fuck most teachers looked at him funny now. And not because of his clothes – he’d worn black for nearly two years now!

It would be easy, he supposed, to just change his feathers. Just wear ‘normal’ stuff, wear checkered shirts and blue-jeans and sneakers and listen to _Kanye West_ or _Nelly_. Oh, wait – he already wore sneakers. 

“Jensen Ackles?”

But he didn’t want to. He didn’t want to give himself up just so nobody would look at him funny anymore. Look at Mark – he’d been as normal as they got, as healthy, handsome, ordinary American as possible. And what did it get him? Nothing. He’d been overlooked, like the good kid in a class full of clowns and bullies.

That wasn’t right. Neither that nobody had looked past the outer shell that was Mark Parker, nor that Jens needed to change himself in order to be accepted and not placed under permanent suspicion. It wasn’t _right_!

“JENSEN”

He jerked out of his chair and had his back against the wall before it registered that the shout wasn’t coming from anyone with a gun but from Mrs. Perron. His heart beat thousand times a minute, it felt like, and his eyes didn’t focus clearly. He could hear his own breath loud in the room. 

“Jesus, Jensen…” his teacher was seemingly as shocked as he was from his reaction. Her hand was on her heart and she stared at him with huge eyes. ‘At least she isn’t afraid of you’, the snarky comedian in his head mocked.

“S-sorry” he panted. His breath was slowing, as was his heart. ‘Fight or Flight’ was set on hold for now and his higher brain-functions were allowed some thought now. For example, Jensen was able to understand that his eyes were fine, he’d just thrown his glasses at Mrs. Perron. 

Whoops.

“It’s ok, Jensen. I shouldn’t have yelled. I called you three times, though. If you don’t feel good, or not yet… if you think you can’t cope with school yet, you should go home.”

Someone snickered behind her. Jens’s gaze flicked there, fast and precise despite his muddy eyesight and the kid – Mary? Maybe Kaitlyn – stopped. He couldn’t say anything, though, before Perron turned around and spoke.

“Does anyone think that’s funny? Huh? Anybody? No? Good! Because I don’t think it’s funny that some people’s nerves aren’t as they used to be. Mine aren’t either – I sure don’t take crap as indulgently as I did before.” 

That was something. Perron was known throughout Hilldale as the teacher with the most reliable take-no-shit- attitude. 

“So, Jensen. What will it be? You want to go home? No?” Jensen sheepishly shook his head. “Good. In that case, you get your ass back on your seat and pay attention. This wouldn’t have happened if you’ve done it from the beginning. Now, please translate the next unit. Page fifteen, second paragraph.”

Jens picked up his glasses, put them on and sat down, tried to get his mind back into working order. Astonishingly, concentrating on Mario’s and Anita’s adventures in La Mancha – stupid book! – helped and he only stuttered once. 

 

-*-

Later that day, after Mr. Edison had managed to make an awesome subject like Chemistry as boring as possible, the teacher asked the class to wait a bit. Jay raised his eyebrows and Jensen put away his pencil, with which he and Jared’d just played ‘Hangman’ to somehow get through the lesson. ‘_hr_st_na-Ann _s a wh_ny b_t_h’ was still unfinished. 

Edison was a weird guy, and his nerves were clearly still frayed. Jens might claim him to be one of the worst, for he avoided Jensen’s eyes as hard as possible, clearly afraid of him. He might, but he didn’t. Edison was pretty much afraid of every teenager these days and Jared and Jens had a bet going as to when he’d resign and go teach pre-school. Or maybe raise guinea-pigs, they weren’t decided yet.

“A-all right. I just wa-want to announce… and announcement. Uh. We’ll be having a little…service, yes, service. Memorial service. Next Friday. For… all those we lost. Students. And of course Norma – uh, Mrs. Jenkins and poor, poor Lindman – uh, y’know. Coach Johansson. We’ll be having a minute of silence, honoring their devotion to…”

Static ran through Jensen’s head. He didn’t hear anyone anymore, just a steady drone of maybe-voices. He blinked, tried to get his vision clear. Everything was blotchy, like someone’d spilled juice on a water- color painting. First it was yellowish, then bright white with blotches were people stood, then it darkened to near-black.


	3. Chapter 3

“Jens? Hey, Jensen, come on! Wake up. Jensen, please, come on”

Jared. 

“Huh?”

“What the hell? You nearly fainted, man. What’s wrong with ya? Jens?” 

Jensen blinked. They were alone in class, but obviously nobody’d noticed his freak-out. Good. But Jay had. Shit.

“Jensen? You’re kinda scaring me, dude.”

“Sorry. Uh… how long?”

“Not long. A minute? But you… man, you looked white’s a sheet! You need the nurse? You sick?”

“No…? No. No, I’m… ok. Not… you know. Not really great, but… uh… let’s just go home, ‘kay?”

He packed his bag and tried to ignore Jay’s worried gaze on his back. A second or two later, he heard Jared rummaging in his backpack as well. 

Shit, he needed to think. Not here, not now. He… Izzy. He needed Izz. 

-*-

Dogs were more than just fuzzy beings that ate a lot and farted. Dogs were… friends. Friends for life. They never judge and no matter how you look or smell, they love you.

Probably love you even more if you smell weird.

Izzy was a great dog. He’d been thin as a rake as he got him, mangy and scared of his own shadow. Jensen’s mom used to say that without her son, the dog’d be dead by now. 

Maybe.

But without his mom and his sister, Izz sure wouldn’t be the dog he was today. Strong, smart and confident. And beautiful. God, Izzy was the most awesome-looking dog out there. His fur was shiny, his legs long and elegant. His head had the right size, the right proportions to make him look magnificent and proud. He had ears that were tipped over just at the end, like those of a Collie. He was dark chocolate-brown and white and had a darker, near-black mask on his face. 

If it wasn’t for the crooked, short tail that’d been obviously intended to be longer than it was now, he’d be a dog for a magazine-cover. 

Izz also never bitched when Jensen took him outside, even when it poured. 

Like now.

He’d barely opened his door when Jensen’d grabbed the dog-leash, whistled sharply and yelled “Out with Izz” at his mom.

It hadn’t rained then, but it did now. The two of them trudged through the muddy forest, for once sticking to the paths and not veering into the trees, like they usually did.

Jensen didn’t need the leash for Izzy. He only took it along pro-forma, in case someone with a tiny poodle freaked and demanded he’d ‘keep back his huge beast’. Never really happened, dog-people knew each other and their dogs. And even if there were deer or rabbits out here, Izz wasn’t really interested in them. He usually started a short sprint when a critter fled from close by, but one sharp call or a loud whistle got him back without delay. Which was good, because a dog that really loved hunting would be hard to control out here, with all the foxes and the other stuff that crept through the neighborhood. 

Squirrels, though were another matter. Izz lived for chasing squirrels on trees and stand in front of the trunks and look mournfully up, trying… what? Get it to come back down? Jensen had no clue.

Today, there were no animals deflecting Jensen’s thoughts, and in the shitty weather, there wouldn’t be many people out here.

Jens fumed. He was so angry, he… He wanted to kick something, hit something. It was Tuesday, long ‘till Friday, but already he was so stoked up and furious he felt like exploding. 

_”… Norma – uh, Mrs. Jenkins and poor, poor Lindman”_

“Poor Lindman, my ass”, Jensen grit out. Izzy looked up from the pile of leaves he’d been sniffing intensely but turned back again when he realized his boss wasn't speaking to him.

_”…honoring their devotion to our school, to the students of Hilldale. To acknowledge what they – over the years – have done for all of us.”_

Honoring them? He’d rather eat a pile of dog-shit!

But… he couldn’t tell anyone why. Could he? Maybe he had to. It was one thing to give Jay an award he didn’t want – not even listening to his protests and ignoring the damn stupidity, the fucking wrongness of such an act. 

But honoring these two. That … 

No.

_”Is that a new shampoo you’re using?”_

No. Not thinking about it.

_”I think you have great potential, Jensen. You could really … be someone. One day. If you put a little more… effort in. If you … committed more.”_

No!

_” Hmmm. This soap of yours smells good. What kind is it?”_

_“ Oh, you have a new shirt, don’t you? Haven’t seen it on you before.”_

NO!

Jensen started to run.

-*-

Soaking wet, he got home about an hour later. 

“Good god, Jensen! What the hell?” his mom exclaimed when she saw him and the growing puddle of water he was leaving in the doorway. “Get in, take off your clothes and into the shower. Now!” she interrupted his protest “Mack, come, dry the dog, will ya?” 

Shivering a little, Jens went upstairs. He was actually pretty glad that he didn’t have to care about his wet pants, shirt, jacket and shoes. He felt pretty miserable. 

The hot water from the shower revived him a little. It took some time to get his skin back to its intended temperature, but he felt pretty good afterwards. Huddled in a hoodie and sweatpants, his feet tugged into the self-knitted socks from his Grandma, he went down and slumped on the couch. 

His mind was comfortably numb now. Having reached a decision felt like a huge weight had dropped from him. 

He’d tell. Wasn’t anything else, really, he could do. He’d tell first his mom, then Jay. Then, they’d …do something. He wasn’t sure what but felt confident that it’d be out of his hands. For all his wanting to be a treated like an adult, there was a certain comfort in letting those with some more years on their back handle things.

“Jens, honey, you better now?” his mom brought a hot chocolate over and some cookies. “You want me to stay here tonight?”

Tonight? Stay? Oh, right. Mom had a date. With Phil McAllistair. 

“Uh… no, it’s fine” he decided. It could wait one more day, after all. Mom and Phil had been going out for a few months now, and he was a good guy. Wasn’t fair on them to spoil another date, when his mother hadn’t felt she could let her son out of her sight for a whole night. She deserved some time for herself.

“You sure?”

“Yes, mom. Go. Have fun. I’ll be fine. I… Mack’n I’ll watch a movie, order some pizza.”

“Right. Just remember that it’s a school-day tomorrow. Don’t stay up too late. Ten, eleven the latest. Mack can stay up ‘till ten-thirty. No more, you get me?”

“Yeah, sure. Same goes for you, though! Don’t be later than eleven tomorrow, right?” he grinned. 

“Oh, so you don’t want me to tell you all the wicked little details for breakfast?” She grinned at his horror-stricken face and mussed his damp hair. She got a little dewy-eyed a second later. “You know I love you, right? I love you and for all that I wish you wouldn’t hide yourself behind all that black, I want you to be happy. If you’re miserable, you’d tell me, right? If you think I leave the two of you alone too often –“

“Mom, no. Not you too!” he sighed, too sapped and mellow to get angry. “I’m not gonna blow up the school. I don’t take drugs –“ surely smoking weed now and then didn’t count, right? “– and I’m fine, or I would be if everyone would leave me the fuck alone and get off my back. I’m happy!” He looked at her, at her slightly worried eyes and knew she wouldn’t believe his declaration completely for some time. But she wasn’t actually scared, just worried. And, though annoying, that was kinda ok. “I’d be even more happy if you’d have a good night, y’know? Just… forget this crap for one night? Tomorrow… I’ll be still here tomorrow and you can worry all over me again, ok? Or maybe Mack’ll get pregnant and you can have someone else to worry.”

“Oh, don’t even go there! I hope that’s a long way off still.” She contemplated something for a while “You think she’d had sex yet?”

“Argh! Brain-bleach! Mom, please! Go, shoo! Get out! Ugh…now I’ll dream this stuff! Gah…”

Laughing, his mother stood, snatched a cookie and grabbed her coat and her keys. “Mack, I’m off” she yelled through the house “Be nice to your brother!”

“Have fun mom, use a condom!” came from upstairs and Mack’s impish face appeared from the landing. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t” she grinned and waved cheekily.

“I wonder where you get that attitude from, missy. I’ll have a talk with your teachers, I think”. Smiling, their mother left and through the open door they spotted Phil’s car in the driveway. 

“She gone?” Mack asked. Jensen had a better view from the couch.

“Yupp” he said and as if that’d been a starting-gun gone off, both siblings jumped and scrambled over each other to get the phone.

“Nononono, you’ll call “Mario’s” again, their pizza sucks, Imp!”

“Not true, way better than “Calzone’s”, you moron! Leggo!”

“Make me, Muppet!”

“Agh, you ass! Wait till I tell mom!”

“Hello? Hello, I’d like to – Mack, stop it! – two pizzas, one with … MACK! ...”

-*-

“Jensen, can I talk to you for a minute?” 

Jensen had decided to not wait any longer. This morning, with steeled resolve, he’d tried to tell his mom. Only to realize that there was no way he could do that without Mack listening. And really, this talk needed more than just a few minutes before or after breakfast. So he put it off ‘till afternoon. Or evening. Tomorrow?

“Sure” he answered distractedly, wearily watching Mrs. Washington cross the schoolyard.

“It’s… Look, are you alright?”

“Hmmm.”

“Jensen!” Jay shook him.

“What? Sorry, what’d’ya say?”

“That’s exactly what I mean! You gave me shit, weeks ago how I’m supposed to snap out if my maudlin, but you’re doin’ the same thing now! You’ve been… weird, lately.”

“Jay…”

“And don’t gimme anything about ‘it’s just stress’. I know what you do when you’re stressed. This is not it!”

Jensen sighed and looked at his friend. Jay was still a bit thinner than he’d been before, but he wasn’t as pale. The two of them were together a lot, more than was healthy, maybe, and he’d convinced Jared to try aikido. He was in the beginner’s class so they weren’t actually together in it, but Jensen was sure it’d do Jay good.

They’d spent whole afternoons and evenings in each other’s room and Jensen knew all about Jay’s issues, about his guilt and his sorrow over his lost friend. The one he’d overlooked in order to save the other one. He hadn’t needed to force Jay to say anything, he’d just talked when he felt like it. 

And still Jared didn’t know about Jensen’s role in the drama.

How was that fair? How could he demand of his friend to come clean and talk about his wrong choices when he himself didn’t have the balls to even talk to his mom? When he didn’t even have the cojones to talk to Jay?

“ You’re right. I’ll… Can we… can we skip school?”

That was actually a hard question. Used to be simple, yes or no. But now, after all this shit that happened, they all felt the amount of worry they got from their parents like a thick blanket. It was meant to be comforting and in many ways was, but sometimes it felt like it suffocated them. 

“Jens… I don’t…” Jay looked around, at the schoolyard. At the kids mingling and talking and laughing and doing shit teenagers did. The middle-schoolers were easily identified – they were sparkly and careless in a way the other kids weren’t.

Well, not all of them were.

Some’d had siblings over at the Highschool. 

“Ok.”

That was all he had to say. Jensen asked and Jared gave, no question asked. True, it was the same vice-versa, but it still amazed Jensen how much his friend trusted him.

They simultaneously turned, looked left and right for a teacher’s sharp eye and left the school, striding away as if that was actually ok, as if they had every right to leave.

-*-

_”Jensen. Wait a minute, all right?”_

This was going to suck.

_”Boy, are you fast. Not only in the water, right?”_

The two boys trudged along, both not really caring where they went. If Jay was bothered that Jens hadn’t yet talked, he didn’t let on.

_”No. Not like this. Look… come here, okay? I’ll show ya. Gimme your arm…yeah, like this. God, you’re stiff as a plank, relax, will ya.”_

Sixteen.

Sixteen kids had died that day. Sixteen teenagers of varying ages and three members of the staff – the Coach, the Counselor and Mrs. Amhurst, who’d died of infection and shock hitting her system hard a week after the day. 

Didn’t sound that much, right?

Sure had felt like more to Jensen. There’d been twenty kids injured directly through bullets, more or less severe. And then there were those that’d been kicked or’d wrenched ankles and wrists on their flight away from danger. Concussions from hitting the floor at a high speed, when the reasons why they weren’t allowed to run in the corridors’d come crashing into their minds. Literally. Abrasions a ton. 

_”Hey, Ackles! Wait, gotta tell ya something!”_

And Bill Thompson, Jay’s uncle, said that the first officers who’d walked into the school were still on sick leave.

_”I swear to god, boy, you’ve grown up, haven’t ya? More ways’n one, right-o?”_

All messed up. After all, most o’them knew at least some of the kids. Bill’s partner, Something-something Murphy, that fat asshole, had actually wanted to arrest Jensen when he’d seen him. Fucker. Jay’d told him. There wasn’t much Jay didn’t tell him. Some things Bill told both of them right away, much to Mrs. P’s annoyance. She pretty much wanted to coddle Jay to death. Or, well, that’s what Jay said anyways.

_”Jensen? You in here? Ah, there you are. Oh, sorry. You don’t mind me waiting here, do ya?”_

“Jens? Where’re we going?”

_”I really think you’ve got it in you, Jensen. You’ve got the build for it. The… body. Shoulders’ll develop more, but your… hips and those thighs… pretty much gold-material.”_

Jensen looked up, taking in his surroundings. His feet had automatically taken a known path, and Jay had followed, a bit like a puppy. He wouldn’t tell him that, though. 

But from where they were, Jensen knew where they had to go. There’d never been another place to have that conversation, really.

“Come on” he tucked Jay’s jacked, nodded in the direction they needed to go. Jared swallowed but nodded as well. Maybe he needed to be there as much as Jensen did.

-*-

Sixteen dead kids.

Nothing in the corridors indicated that this had been the building where sixteen kids had breathed their last breath, laughed their last laughs.

Sixteen. And Mark. For whatever dumb-ass reason, the media and people in general said “Sixteen teenagers and the perpetrator”, as if ridding Mark of his age’d make it better, somehow. 

Make the dead kids more innocent, and Mark nothing but evil. 

He wasn’t evil. He’d been desperate.

Stupid, sure, for just going on pretending, but then again, Jensen had no right to judge. He could judge Mark’s method of dealing, though, which was sick all the way through.

_”You’re a dream, you know that? I’ve dreamt of you. More than once. What about you? Did you ever dream of me? Jensen?”_

The boys strolled through the empty halls of their old school, taking their time. Sometimes, Jay’d stop, put a finger in one of the bullet-holes the construction-company hadn’t yet closed. Sometimes Jensen touched a wall where he remembered someone cowering that day. 

They went to their old classrooms, not saying anything. Silently, they’d point things out to each other – the chairs stacked neatly on top of each other, the forgotten pen on the table. The doodle on the blackboard, still telling people that ‘Jodie does it with Peter’s dad’.

Poor Jodie. Jensen hoped it wasn’t true.

In the empty school, the footsteps left a weird, sad echo. Like many buildings that were developed for a certain purpose, it felt soulless, dead and lonely when it was robbed of who should be in there. The two boys weren’t enough to fill it with life and the plastic-sheets that had been draped across some doorways, where the crew’d already done some renovations, lent an eerie atmosphere. They hung like ghosts, occasionally fluttering in a draft. 

“What’d’ya think this color is called? ‘Eggshell’, or ‘tooth-white’?” Jay spoke and broke the silence. 

Jensen shrugged. “Dunno.”

“You’d think they’d pick something a bit more…lively, than this, right?” 

Jensen shrugged again. He didn’t want to talk just yet, and after a deep sigh, Jay got the message. Quietly, they trudged along, closer to their goal with every step.

-*-

In the doorway of the cafeteria, they stopped. Neither of them could walk on, and yet they knew – or, well, Jensen knew – that this was the place for this conversation. It was only fitting.

“Jens… I don’t think…”

He looked over, took in his friend’s drawn, pained features. The hunched shoulders. This was the place where Jay’d been great. This was the place Jensen saw him in his minds eyes: scared shitless but shoulders squared, facing a man with a gun. Two guns.

This wasn’t a place Jay should be afraid of. He’d been amazing, brave. A hero, even if Jared disagreed. 

Jensen knew he hadn’t been a slouch himself, knew he’d been kinda heroic himself, but not like that. Jay had shined! He’d been a dazzling presence and if his friend hadn’t inadvertently enabled this whole mess to happen, there would be every reason to give him something as a reward. 

As it were, it was wrong.

Jensen stepped into the room. It was as empty as the rest of the school, only the service-area-furniture was still where it’d always been. Just as the empty classrooms and corridors, the cafeteria looked dead. 

Fitting.

Sure steps brought him to one of the counters. After hopping up on one, he stared into the hollowed-out room. He knew Jared was still in the doorway, knew without looking that Jared’s gaze, like his own, was fixed on the dark smudges on the linoleum. 

Maybe it was oil. Or rust.

Yeah. Right. 

“You know, in a room full of teachers, Mark took out only one. In a school full of people, Mark looked for one person. I know it. You know it. Bill said as much. ‘Jared’, he said, ‘Jared, it’s a weird miracle that not more kids’d died.’” Jensen smirked “Miracle, right!” He didn’t look up but he heard Jared enter the room. The soles of his sneakers squeaked on the floor.

“What’re you saying?”

“I think… I think it’s partly my fault.”

-*-

_”Jensen, can I talk to you for a minute?”_

_“Sure, coach. Whatissit?”_

_Jensen liked Coach Johansson. He was awesome, really cool for a grown-up. He’d been a national champion – or at least could have been. He’d once been in the Olympic qualification-try-offs for breast-stroke and freestyle!_

_He also wasn’t old. Maybe … Jensen had no idea how old, but certainly not older than his mom. The coach was fit and trim, he looked like Jensen wanted to look, when he was older. Now, he was only fourteen and skinny, not muscular like the coach. He also knew that Benjamin Harris, who claimed to be a much fitter than anyone else in the team, didn’t have the muscles the coach had. They all could see that, because, duh, swimming?_

_The coach liked to show how to move right by himself, so he seldom wore a shirt. And those muscles, if Jens was honest, were awesome!_

_“I’ve been watching you. You’ve… improved a lot. How long are you with us now?”_

_“Uh… a year? ‘bouts?”_

_“Right. Our youngest, aren’t ya?”_

_“Dunno” Jensen fidgeted. He didn’t like being reminded that he was the one with the least experience in the team. The newest. He liked swimming, loved it. But the others were so much better! “Tommy’s my age? Right?”_

_“I think Tommy’s a bit older. I think he said he’ll be fifteen next week.”_

_“Oh.” Jensen waited, but apparently coach Johansson didn’t want anything else from him. He only smiled at Jensen and didn’t say anything more. “Uhm… if that’s all… I kinda…”_

_“Oh, I’m sorry.” Johansson put his hand on his arm to hold him back, or as an apology. His palm was warm. “I’m standing here, staring… I wanted to tell you, I think you have a lot of potential.”_

_“I do?” Jensen squeaked. “Really?”_

_“Yes. Compared to the others, you’re plenty ahead. I mean, they are better for now, but they’ve been doing this far longer. So, compared to them… you’re more than good.” He smiled kindly at him and when Jensen’s eyes lit up in joy over the praise, his own lit up as well._

_“Wow, that’s…. Wow. Thank you! Mr. Johansson. Sir.”_

_“My pleasure” the trainer smiled back, stroking his thumb lightly over Jensen’s arm. He swallowed and took his hand away. “See you next time, then. Have a good weekend”_

_“Will have! Thanks again!”_

 

“I, uh… I never thought anything ‘bout it. Y’know? He was just saying something nice, that’s all. Well. That’s what I figured. I mean, it was a bit… strange. The touchy-feely-stuff. But he’d been like this with everyone, so I didn’t really think anything about it. Didn’t mind much.”

Jay remained silent. He’d sat next to Jens, same position, back against the wall, knees drawn up. Their shoulders touched, but they didn’t look at each other. Jensen wasn’t sure if he could talk if he’d have to look at his friend.

“But… it got more awkward. He… he started to keep close to me. Always using some … some praise or something else. Like telling me stuff I already knew, that he’d already told to the team. I first thought-“ he laughed self-depreciatingly “- that he thought I was a bit stupid.”

 

_”Jensen, wait a minute.”_

_Jens was a bit annoyed about the delay. Not only did he really need to catch the bus, but he also didn’t really want another explanation about his swim-style. He’d understood it fine the first time!_

_“What?”_

_“Hey, why so sullen, huh? I won’t keep you long. In fact, go on shower, I’ll just talk to you through the curtain.”_

_“Uh…”_

_“Go on, it’s faster that way. You want to get on the bus, right?”_

_“Yeah…”_

_“So shoo.”  
_

“Man… that was really awkward. You know? He kept talking, and I have no fucking clue what he actually said. I mean… I think he didn’t know either. He just babbled along and I tried to get the quickest shower possible. I nearly freaked when… he was really close to the curtain, you know, the one that separates the showers from the pool-area? He said – tried to make it a joke – he asked if I washed behind my ears. Only, there was this… this pause, before ‘ears’.” Jensen shuddered. He was sure Jay’d noticed, because his friend leaned closer against him after. “And the second I had my towel wrapped around me, he was there. Just...right there! I didn’t even tell him I was finished! I tried to tell myself I’m imagining things. I mean, this shit doesn’t happen, right? Never to yourself, does it?”

Jared nodded. Jens felt it through his shoulder.

“And, uh. He … he kept telling me nice things. But really weird, creepy stuff. Like how nice my shampoo smelled. Dude, that was so freaky! Who tells a guy that his shampoo smells good! And… he … he sniffed me. Smelled my hair.” He shivered again. This stuff was making him go places he’d sworn never to visit again. Which he’d thought long past and forgotten.

Jay pulled in a deep breath, let it out slowly. Then he spoke, for the first time in what felt like hours. “Did he… you know. _Do_ stuff?” 

“No. I mean, he… touched. But not… below the belt, or anything. Just kinda… _caressing_ me. Arms, and, uh… once he… he stroked my cheek. Said there was a … smudge, or some bullshit.”

 

_Jensen sat on the steps, after school. He was waiting for his mom, who was late. But she’d said she’d be late, so that was fine. Jens’d started to draw, a tree on the other side of the road when he heard someone approach._

_“Hi Jensen.” Lisa Toralini, from Jensen’s arts-class passed by.”You’re drawing? Can I see?” She sat next to him and Jensen gave her the spiral-block with the tree. He turned away, because she was stunningly pretty and smelled like vanilla._

_“Oh, wow. That’s really good! I can even see which tree it is from the leaves – a maple, right?”_

_“Uh... actually, it’s a sycamore. Look, the leaves are more triangular, and the trunk is totally different.”_

_“Oh? Oh. Ok, well."_

_He blushed when he noticed she wasn’t really interested in the tree, had only wanted to be nice. She smiled at him, gave the book back and waved goodbye. Awesome. Way to go, geek!_

_Jensen didn’t even have time to freak out though, cause right then Coach Johansson slinked by._

_“Hey, Jensen. Wasn’t that Lisa Toralini? Cute kid, right? You fancy her? Or, wait, what do you say now? You dig her’?” he actually snickered._

_Jensen tried to inconspicuously move away, but the coach just sat down close – nearly touching. There wasn’t anywhere Jens could go without obviously fleeing, and he wasn’t prepared for that, yet. But he prayed his mom would hurry up._

_“Hum” he tried to be distracted, but the warmth of the man next to him made him aware without chance to not notice._

_“She’s really pretty. Huh?” Johansson nudged him. “Bet you dream of her, huh?”_

_Really? How creepy was that? A teacher trying to be ‘one of the kids’ with him, and talking about the cuteness of a sixteen-year-old girl? What a freak!_

_”You’re a dream, too, you know that? The way you look... I’ve actually dreamed of you. More than once. What about you? Did you ever dream of me? Jensen?”_

_Jensen had tried to move away again. He'd just prepared to rise and leave when..._

_“Oh, hey. Wait, hold still. You got…” he touched him. He touched his face! His thumb was stroking right underneath Jensen’s eye-socket and it was pretty obvious that he didn’t do anything but caress him. And then he licked his finger and did it again!_

_“Uh, Sir, I think that’s my mom there. Sorry. Need to… uh…” he disentangled himself from the trainer and stood, went over to the car that’d just pulled into the parking lot. It wasn’t his mom, not even close, but Jensen was glad for any distraction, any reason to be able to get away. When he looked to the steps again, the coach’d left. He spotted him getting into his car._

_When Jensen’s mother really came, about twenty minutes later, Jensen got in without a word. Only when he opened his spiral-block the next day did he see that the tree from the day before was now being torched by a huge, fierce dragon with wings the size of a house.  
_

“It… I tried to dodge him as well as I could, and I managed pretty ok. At least, I thought. He, uh… he still told me that I looked good, smelled good or took notice of my shirts. Or, even creepier, my jeans. And… and he uh… he made comments, how I looked … man, freaking wholesome!” 

That’d been really scary for Jens. ‘Wholesome’ sounded like something you’d eat, not a kid.

“Did Mark notice? S’that why he… you know?” Jay asked. 

“Nah. Mark wasn’t in the team then. He… he came just before I left.” Jensen swallowed hard. That’d been maybe his shittiest move. He hadn’t known, but…

“What made you leave? I mean – I think I’d have left right away, so why wait so long?”

Jens sighed, scratched his hair. “Really? I thought I was seeing things. All the others loved him, thought he was so cool and awesome, and I never got a weird vibe when he was with other kids. I thought it was me, y’know? That I’d been watching too much _Law and Order_ and was imagining that stuff. I mean, he never did anything, really. And man, I loved swimming.” 

He didn’t anymore, not really. Jensen still liked to swim, but only for fun, in a lake or the ocean. He couldn’t stand the chlorine-tang anymore.

“So, what convinced you?”

“It got more… obvious. He started demonstrating moves hands-on.” 

Johansson’d jumped into the pool, some days, had swam up behind Jensen and helpfully showed the team how it should look when you were doing butterfly-swimming. Jens’d loathed it. And the bulge at his backside'd been a sure giveaway. 

“And he kept me behind after training even more often, told me unnecessary stuff, always, you know, _close_. I was getting scared to be alone with him. And… uh. Then…”

 

_”Jensen, really. You should be better by now. I know you have potential, but you should really work harder. You could be a world-class swimmer one day, but not if you’re only half-assed about it. I spoke with your mother, the other day -” Jensen paled “- and she said it’d be ok if you trained more. Your extracurricular activities aren’t that many, so you’d have time enough. We could work much more effectively when you’re not that distracted. So, I thought we could do some private training, you and me.”_

_He’d paled even further, taken two steps away from the coach. Felt the bile rise in his throat. That Johansson’d talked to his mom was unforgivable, but the mere idea of spending time with this guy…_

_“Uh… I’ll think of it. I…I need to go. It’s… it’s time. Need to go. Sorry!” and he’d bolted from the room, colliding with somebody in the hall.  
_

“I told my mom that I wanted out. She… the coach hadn’t talked to her, you know? He’d lied, must’ve gotten the schedule from the school-secretary.”

Jay was silent once more. He just let out a deep breath and stared at his hand on his knees. 

“Jay?”

“He’d been grooming you”

Jensen frowned in thought. “Uh… no. He never did. I didn’t even have a comb with me…”

Startled, Jared looked over and laughed a bit. “Dude! ‘Grooming’ is when a pedo insinuates himself with his… victim. Makes him or her think he’s special, and that it’s normal what he does.”

“Oh” Jens felt stupid “How do you know that?”

Jay snickered “Saw it on _Law and Order_ ”

Both kids chuckled a moment, letting out tension in spades. It felt good to laugh, especially here, in this building. In this room.

 

“Hey. Is that the reason?”

“Reason?”

“Yeah, for all the black stuff, the chains and all? The hair?”

“What? No!” 

No! He wore his clothes because he liked them. Because they made him look dangerous, bad-ass and … huh. He glanced at Jared, who was watching his reactions like a hawk. “Maybe a bit?”

“A bit.”

“A tiny bit?”

“Man, you’re really telling me you wear this patchi-stuff because you like the smell?” 

Jensen smirked a little. “Put like that…” He’d never consciously thought about it. And… it wasn’t really all there was to it. 

He liked his black clothes, liked not only the image of prickly reserve it created but also… he liked how he looked. Maybe... maybe it was defense. He’d certainly chosen aikido for that reason. But not just that. Right? He liked the music he listened to; he liked his friends from gaming. He liked to wear spikes and chains and leather, but it was as much to be seen as it was to be … well, to be less pretty. ‘Pretty’ wasn’t an attribute he wanted for himself. 

Oh, he knew he looked good. He liked that he looked good. But… well. He also liked to surprise people by showing them something and being absolutely different inside. He loved taking prejudices apart. He kinda thrived on the attention he got from looking like that, but he also liked the anonymity it created. He was the black guy, the goth. He wasn’t Jensen with all that encompassed, he was an image. A type. People could project their own ideas about him on his darkened clothes and never know the one inside. 

It was a comfortable cloak, one that made him be seen while at the same time hid him well.

Now that Jay opened that box of possibility, he couldn’t close it anymore, and Jens couldn’t honestly deny that there might be something more behind his preferences for dark.

Then again, he could’ve just as easily hidden himself behind his skater-wear, behind screaming-pink hair and baggy jeans. Or stop washing, look and smell greasy. But he’d chosen his goth looks over every other attire, so there must’ve been more involved than just trying to escape his swim-coach.

He was still thinking about that when Jay spoke again. “There’s one thing I don’t get.” 

“Yeah?” Jens looked at Jared. This time, his friend had his gaze fixed on the point where Mark had been killed.

“How does this make anything your fault?”

Jensen took a deep breath. And another. One more.

“Well… I never told anyone.” Jay’s eyes snapped to him for a second, then back to the rust-colored spot on the floor. “And… and I think… I’m pretty sure from what Mark said that day, that when I wasn’t…" _pretty_ “available anymore, Johansson fixated on Mark. And… I guess Mark didn’t … didn’t take it so well.”

“Hmm. You never told anyone? Not even your mom?”

“Are you kidding me? My mom would’ve killed him! And I toldya, I wasn’t…”

“You weren’t sure. I get that. More than you believe” Jay’s eyes were sad and Jensen thought that he was probably right. Jared had a lot of experience in not being sure and carried his own weight for that.

“I… I know it sounds silly, and maybe a bit… arrogant. But I thought… I thought that he was only interested in me. Not… not boys in general. I thought he’d just…” 

The coach had said that Jensen was special, and in a weird sort of way, it’d made him feel … good. And he hadn’t honestly believed that Johansson would find someone else ‘special’ that fast, or at all. 

‘Grooming’ indeed. If he hadn’t been weary and repelled by the man, if he’d been a bit more gullible, a bit less attentive… If he didn’t have a sister who was pretty and perky and kinda his responsibility when his mom wasn’t home, it might have been way worse. 

“So, you figure it’s your fault because you didn’t tell anyone and Johansson was still at school? And that, what? That Mark was forced to take a gun to school and shoot people who had nothing to do with it, who were just… in the way, or bubbleheads and freaking teenagers, like Sally?”

“No. Yes… No. Not entirely. I… I know, like, in here-“ Jensen knocked at his head “that it was Mark’s choice to start shooting. I know that” He sighed “But it feels …”

“I know. Believe me, I know. If I’d’ve listened to him, if I'd’ve … I dunno, been more concerned. But he was just a pal, never… never more. He wasn’t like Kevin, or Mel. Or you. I didn’t know enough about him. Hell, who should I’ve told that he drank too much, huh? Or that his parents weren’t home a lot. That wasn’t my place!”

“Yeah. Which is why there is no way in Hell they should be allowed to hand Jenkins a freakin’ award!” Jens hissed. “You remember?” Jay nodded “He must’ve told her. Maybe not all, but enough. Fuck, Jay! They wanna give medals or something to those people! To a fucking pedophile swim-coach and a school-counselor who didn’t do her job! That’s …” Jensen was breathing hard. 

He’d jumped off the table and started pacing in the middle of his rant, and now he stood in front of Jared, silently pleading with him to make it right.

“That’s wrong.”

“Yeah.” 

Right. Jared was in the same boat. In an even worse situation, because if Jens told others about what he knew, he’d maybe get pitied and probably some more counseling. But Jay… Jay had known something was gonna happen, and he hadn’t told anyone. Wasn’t that a crime of sorts?

“We can’t let them do it, can we? Give out those fucked-up prizes and keep quiet?”

“I don’t think we can, Jay. Wish we could.”

“Nah. S’ what I figured.” Jay ran his hand through his hair. “So, what now?”

-*-

What now indeed. They sat in the old school for some time, until the Now had nearly erased the Then. They would’ve stayed longer, but Jared’s cell-phone alarm told them that school was out now and they needed to get home or their parents would worry. 

Trudging back to Middle-School, where Jay’s car stood, they kicked some ideas around. The one Jared preferred, going to the ceremony and just telling the whole town about what happened was pretty cool, but the thought of telling a hall full of strangers that the swim-coach had tried to get into Jensen’s pants wasn’t high on Jensen’s list of fun-things to do. Jay had kindly seen reason, especially when Jay realized that it would be insanely cruel to the relatives of the coach and Mrs. Jenkins as well as Mark’s family. They might’ve neglected their boy, but they didn’t deserve to learn about their kid’s misery from the press or cruel neighbors. 

But they had to do something. The fact that nobody even thought about researching a reason for Mark’s blow-out couldn’t be tolerated, not when Jensen and Jay had the clues necessary.

“Bill?”

“I guess that’s our best bet. He’ll listen. He likes you, Jensen, for whatever reason” 

Jensen shoved Jared playfully, relieved to finally see some of the snark back in his friend. Been too long that he’d seen him smile and grin, too long since they both had laughed. Really laughed, the loud, relieved, tension-snapping kind. Maybe it was time to take Jay on a LARP now. There was tons of fun to have, you get exercise in heaps and best of all, nobody there knew them and nobody treated them any different than anyone else. 

He just had to get Mrs. P to agree, but he was sure his mom would come up with something. 

“All right. So, uh… do we tell him first, or do ya wanna tell your parents first?”

“Shhhhheeeee… I think… I think I’ll tell all of ‘em together. That way, they won’t be able to murder me for stupidity, with a police-officer present.” Jay scratched his arm “I… uh, I’d like to do it together, with you? So… Like all in one go? Bill could… Dunno, so he has both statements right away?”

“Ok.” Jay looked surprised by his easy acquiescence, but truth was that Jensen was relieved. He couldn’t even begin to think about doing this stuff alone. “I... I just need to tell my mom first. Maybe she wants to be there too." Maybe, right. There would be no way to keep Donna Ackles away from that talk, Jensen was sure.

“Ok. So… how about I call Bill and we set something up? Tonight, if possible?”

“Tonight?” Jensen squeaked. “So soon?”

“Uh… better not push it off longer than necessary. You know? I kinda… I need to get rid of this shit.”

“Uh… What’ll happen to you?”

“Huh?”

“I mean… Isn’t it a crime, or something? To withhold information like that?”

“Yeah. Guess so. Dunno.” Jay looked away. “Can’t really do anything ‘bout it, can I?”

-*-

They got back right on time to pick up Mack and Megan. Both girls looked suspiciously at them and Mack glared at her brother the whole drive. 

Back home, she asked him acidly if he’d had fun and he just glared back, turned his back and switched on the TV. 

Jay called at four to tell him that all was set for seven-thirty that night and that he hadn’t been able to keep his secret from his parents after all. They had been, well, a bit pissed, Jared said, but he was still alive and they’d get over it. The weight on Jensen’s chest that had been lifted after the talk with his friend and which had started to grow again on their way back was on his heart full force now. Heavier then before. Anxiously switching channels every second, he waited for his mother.

“Man, you suck ass! If you can’t keep one show on, I’m gonna watch in your room!” Mack declared. Jensen only waved her off.

-*- 

Five o’clock, as usual, Donna Ackles pulled into the driveway of her home. She grabbed her bag and opened the door, mentally inventorying their ice-box for dinner today. There were some frozen pizza, she was sure. She’d need to stock up again.

When she opened the door, she nearly had a heart-attack. Her son was standing in the doorway to the living room, pale and clearly nervous. He was chewing on his thumbnail, and he only did that when he was strung like a wire.

“Jensen! What happened?” her bag hit the floor. “Did something happen in school? Is Mack ok? Jens?”

“No… nothing happened. Not… I just…” he stuttered. 

Donna saw him pull himself together after that and start again. 

“Mom, I need to tell you something.”

 

~end~

 

******


End file.
